


All the Wrong Reasons, and a Few More

by alicat54c



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Background Dark Sides (Sanders Sides), Dark, Hurt Deceit | Janus Sanders, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, OC Dark Sides - Freeform, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:55:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29206971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alicat54c/pseuds/alicat54c
Summary: Virgil. Remus. They would be reforming any day now. Weak and alone in their rooms.Screams of their violent ends still on their lips.Malice and Envy would be scratching at their doors to start again.Janus could not let that happen. Even if it meant- well. No matter what it meant....Fresh from Malice's tender loving torture, Deceit makes a choice to ally himself with Logic.Inspired by Tales from the Dark Sides from Odagahara
Relationships: Deceit | Janus Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders
Comments: 28
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [spider eyes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20946272) by [Odaigahara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odaigahara/pseuds/Odaigahara). 



…

Logan walked down the corridor, gaze fixed on a day planner in his hand, while the other made notes in the margins. A true testament to his strength and security in Thomas’s mind. If anyone on the dark side of the mindscape had tried that, they would find themselves cut down by Malice or besieged by Ignorance in an instant.

Running a hand one last time over his cheek to ensure his transformation remained firm, Janus leaned out of the shadows.

“Logic,” Janus’s purr rumbled deep in his chest, as he lounged against the wall. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Logan blinked three times in quick succession, closing the planner with a snap. “I am correct in assuming you are Deceit. This is the route to my room, so it is not unusual for me to be here. You, on the other hand, are an anomaly.”

Janus laughed, turning imperceptibly so his sore ribs were guarded against the wall. “Well, that is not so anomalous, as I’m here to see you.”

The planner in Logan’s hand vanished in the space between his side and his reaching to adjust his glasses. “And what can I assist you with Deceit?”

Pushing himself off the wall with a curving motion of his back that made his ribs twinge, Janus slinked closer. Being so close that the other side could reach out and touch him made his instincts scream, however establishing rapport and camaraderie was essential. He could take Logic’s offer of a favor, but that would immediately put Janus in a position of owing him. That path had its advantages, but gaining good grace would take up precious time.

“Oh, Logic, it is not what you can do for me, but what I can do for you.” His head tilted, exposing his neck, and causing goosebumps to break out along the base of his spine.

Logic’s eyes lingered on the scaled patterning which vanished under Janus’s collar. His nostrils twitched, no doubt inhaling the intoxicating cologne stolen from Lust’s room.

“I’m afraid I do not understand your meaning.” Logan cleared his throat. “I perform my duties optimally, and do not require any assistance.”

“Oh, but everyone can use some help!” Janus slid closer, aware at all times where Logan’s hands were. The logical side appeared to not see Janus as threat enough to raise his guard. 

And why would he? He’s a light side. We’re nothing close to as strong as them. Janus thought, before allowing his facade to envelope him once more.

“I assure you, I am more than capable of performing at optimal capacity alone.” Logan’s attention slid from him to the door to his room, mind already leaving the conversation. “Was that all?”

But even he needs someone to fetch and carry, or- or- Like that, Janus shifted tracks from one plan to another. 

“Then may I ask you a-” the words stuck in his throat, “-a favor? I would owe you, of course.”

Logan’s eyes returned to his, posture leaning away from the forward momentum of exiting the conversation. “So long as it poses no harm to Thomas, I see no reason not to hear your request.”

Excellent.

“All I want to do is help Thomas.” Janus pressed his hand over his heart. “But I want to learn how to do it better, in my limited capacity, as it is.”

At the word ‘learn’, Logan’s gaze sharpened to a cutting assessment. Janus repressed a flinch at the focused intensity. 

This is what you need to do, he hissed to himself. Don’t blow this. They can’t- you can’t afford to.

“So you have come to me,” Logan said, tone gaining a cadence of consideration. “Because you wish to learn how to better help Thomas?”

All four of his hidden arms squeezed around his middle to the point of pain.

“Yes,” Janus said with a relaxed smile. “Who better to learn from, than the most knowledgeable side?”

The tiniest upwards quirk of his lips betrayed Logan’s pleasure, and Janus felt his stomach drop at his quarry taking the bait.

“I believe this would be a fascinating experiment, to see whether the instinctual composition of a side can be altered through education.” Logan folded one arm across his chest, while the other tapped against his lips. “Some studies have shown that even sociopaths can gain a facsimile of morality through the study of law and rules, and I would be interested to see whether similar results could be attained with a side, such as yourself.”

Janus tried not to his feelings on the casual discussion of dissecting his inner workings show in his expression, though he couldn’t prevent the shaking of his fists behind his back.

“Excellent!” His tone was light, almost as light as his head felt. “When shall we begin? Soon, I hope?”

Logan’s gaze already was looking past Janus. “I will need a day to prepare a lesson plan. Please meet me here tomorrow morning, and we can begin.”

The smile Janus gave in return barely covered the clenching of his jaw. “I will see you then.”

Logan waved distractedly, turning to enter his room. 

Janus waited until the door was entirely shut, before sinking out.

The faded yellow of his domain was like a balm to his tension headache. He checked the barricaded door for tampering, before collapsing onto his mattress. The glamour fell away like flaking scales, revealing gaps where snake skin should be, and oozing cuts interspersed with bruises. He unwound his extra arms from under his coat to check his ribs- still bandaged- before gingerly rolling onto his back. 

His single good eye squinted at the ceiling through a swollen socket, and he focused on breathing. 

Virgil- breath- Remus- breath- Remus- breath- Virgil-

They would be reforming any day now.

-breath-

Weak and alone in their rooms.

-breath-

Screams of their violent ends still on their lips.

-breath- 

Malice and Envy would be scratching at their doors to start again.

-breath-

Janus could not let that happen.

-breath-

Even if it meant- well. No matter what it meant.

-sigh-

…

The next morning found Janus standing in the hallway just outside of Logic’s room. He lingered in the shadows, waiting for signs that the other side was awake. Disturbing his sleep would not make the kind of impression Janus wanted. 

Logic’s door rattled, and opened, revealing the bespectacled side himself.

Janus stepped into his field of vision. “Hello Logic! I was just about to knock. I am not late, am I?”

“No you are not. I realized I did not specify a more accurate time, so have been waiting for you. Please, come in, and we can begin.”

Steeling himself, and hoping his sleeves and cape hid the shaking of his hands, Janus smiled, and walked inside.

The room was as prim and proper as any college professor’s office, with lines of bookshelves vanishing into the hazy distance, and a twin bed in the corner. Logan motioned for Janus to take a seat on the straight backed chair pulled up beside the desk, which looked to have been pulled from the kitchen table. The wood was cheap enough to shatter if Janus kicked it hard enough with his heel, and he had on several occasions, before Malice found better things to tie his victims to. 

Seating himself at the office chair by the desk, Logic opened his lesson plan. “Let us first begin with the syllabus I have devised, and basic vocabulary.”

Janus lowered himself onto the kitchen chair, hands clasped together in his lap. His smile was bland and inoffensive. “An excellent place to start, teacher.”

Logic began by defining the terms and definitions pertaining to morals and ethics that Thomas had learned while in school. Janus of course already knew who Kant and Plato were, having paid attention when Thomas took that philosophy class in high school, but allowed himself to be taught.

The overlap of functions was one of the reasons he chose Logan to ally himself with. Janus, being among other things in charge of Thomas’s self interest, had access to not only Thomas’s desires locked up in Roman’s domain, but also the extensive library of knowledge in Logan’s. However, it was not his job to hold on to such things. His job was to weigh and evaluate, and tuck away the most valuable pieces to build a utilitarian pair of scissors to ‘figuratively’ cut the word to suit Thomas, rather than the other way around.

Logic paused in his recitation of the fifteen logical fallacies, when the clock on the wall caught his eye. 

“I apologize. It seems I have kept you here through lunch. I will procure sustenance for us.”

The mounting debt pressed against Janus’s brow, and he waved his hand in mock carelessness. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.”

“It is no trouble,” Logan said. “Low blood sugar is shown to decrease concentration, which will be detrimental to our continued discussion. We must maintain balanced mental and physical wellbeing in order to perform optimally.”

“Hunger has not stopped me ‘performing optimally’, as you put it, before.”

Logan hummed, already standing to make his way towards the door. “Never the less, I insist that we ‘take a break’. Please wait here until I return.”

Janus watched as the door clicked shut behind him, a tingling buzz at the base of his spine. There was no lock click. 

Was this a test? To see whether Janus could be trusted alone in the heart of Logic’s domain? Or was this Logic’s way of telling Janus he did not trust him to watch his back, while he ventured into, arguably, the most dangerous and contested space within the mindscape? Thomas only bought enough food for himself and what friends regularly visited, and though the sides did not need to eat as regularly as a non-metaphysical being, access to that resource amongst a crowd of sides was hotly fought over.

Perhaps Logic simply did not want to tilt his hand to Creativity or Morality and let them know he had new allies?

Two of Janus’s gloved hands clenched together in his lap. That made sense. While the triumvirate of power between the light sides was as steady as a three legged stool, they still fought amongst themselves, like three powers caught in a cold war. Their vein of civility stopped them from trying to undermine one another overtly, from what Janus understood, as it would most likely cause the uninvolved side to break the tie between arguers with an alliance.

Now that Janus had forced himself between them, like a life raft between airship carriers, well… But Janus knew this. He had chosen Logic as the light side least likely to drive Thomas to ruin, should the balance of power shift in his favor. From what little Janus had observed, of the three, Logic was most often at odds with Creativity and Morality. While Creativity would have been the easiest to flatter to get into his good graces, Janus knew Remus would not be welcome under his brother’s protection, the same way Morality would balk against his. But Logic would see the benefit of having more sides as allies, even as weak as they were compared to him.

Logic would not turn Virgil or Remus away, not once he realized Janus’s usefulness. Janus would vouch for them, personally. They would be all right with Logic. 

It- it didn’t matter what he would want in return.

The door clicked open, and Janus flinched, uncurling himself from where he had hunched over his knees. By the time Logic entered the room, a tray held in his arms, Janus’s polite, attentive smile was back in place.

“I was unsure whether you had any food aversions, or requirements,” Logan said, placing the tray down on the desk. 

Despite himself, Janus’s eyes widened. On the tray sat two massive blueberry muffins, two grilled cheese sandwiches still warm from the microwave, a pile of wrapped granola bars, two apples, a banana, and for some reason a jar of Crofters jam. All this from one outing to the kitchen? 

“Please help yourself to whatever suits your pallet,” Logan said, as he took his seat at the desk. “Thomas has yet to go shopping this week, so I am afraid I was unable to find a high diversity of ‘finger food’.”

“I’m sure I couldn’t,” Janus demured, over the gurgling want of his stomach. 

Logan paged through his planner, making a note. “I have already explained the benefits of consuming food on performance. Do you require me to repeat myself?”

Hearing the threat beneath his light tone, Janus’s hand darted out. It hesitated over the muffins, before settling on the grilled cheese. There were four slices, surely Logic would not be upset over Janus taking one.

He brought it to his mouth, heedless of the orange cheese staining oil onto the fabric of his gloves. Warmth spilled over his tongue at the first bite, and it took all Janus had left not to moan. Warm meals required a level of access to the kitchen unattainable in face of the mob of dark sides. 

For a moment, Janus let himself drift, imagining what he would do if he could cook. Remus would have to be kept out from under the sink, lest he try to boil bleach to drink. Virgil would curl over a plate of hot pasta, and hiss at anyone who tried to get too close. Janus could try one of those boxed recipes Thomas was always buying, there was one for a roast chicken he saw ages ago. Janus’s mouth watered, snake side of his jaw loosening to unhinge fully at the thought of swallowing a full roast chicken.

“I also procured hydration.”

Logan’s voice broke Janus from his thoughts. The logical side proffered him a refillable metal canister. Janus accepted it, hands free of consumables. He took a quick sniff when the bottled unscrewed, before carefully flicking his tongue inside. Just water. He took a sip. Cold.

Janus rescrewed the bottle, and set it aside, bland smile in place. “Thank you. I can’t imagine how I will repay this favor.”

Logan cocked an eyebrow at him, fingers pulling a small black notebook from the ether. “Based on your tone of voice, and the hyperbolic inflation of circumstance, that was sarcasm, correct? Is that your default mode of response?”

“Uh.” Janus pressed himself against the back of his chair, heedless of his hidden injuries. “No, of course not, that would be ridiculous.”

“Fascinating.” Logan made a note in the book, before willing it away. “Now, let us return to defining altruism…”

Janus maintained his attentive expression all through out the rest of Logan’s lecture. One of his hands managed to sneak three granola bars from the tray. His heart nearly stopped when Logan paused to look at the tray, a crease between his brows, but he did not seem to notice the missing food.

Later in his room, Janus stared at the pilfered prizes, before tucking them away. Remus and Virgil would be hungry when they...came back. Janus would be fine with the half sandwich till then. He knew both their rooms were depleted of snacks, which is how the others were able to catch them in the kitchen and…

Janus rolled to press his face into his pillow. 

The amount of favors he was accruing made his skin crawl. He needed to start paying them back, otherwise Logic might think him more of a burden than an asset. But how? Janus huffed out a breath, trying to curl around himself, before his ribs reminded him of what a bad idea that was.

While Janus would do anything Logan asked, it wasn’t like he would be able to refuse, there were certain payments that he found….less palatable than others. He needed to steer Logic so he saw how useful Janus could be in things Janus was not actively averse to.

Tomorrow, he promised himself. He had time enough until tomorrow.  
…


	2. Kitchen contemplations

…  
...ch2: Kitchen contemplations  
…  
…

On the fourth day of his agreeing to tutor Deceit on the intricacies of philosophy, Logan was running late. After the initial miscommunication, he had clarified to Deceit that their discussions would begin at nine ante meridiem, and progress for as long as Deceit wished. 

Current patterns held to Deceit accepting Logan’s tutelage in the morning, followed by Logan serving him lunch, before an afternoon of mixed review and discussion and clarification of the morning’s lecture, or quiet study while Logan performed whatever filing and organization Thomas needed done for the day. Deceit would linger late into the evening, pouring over the books Logan gave him. He would leave when Logan made motions to perform his nightly rituals before bed, politely differential to a fault, asking if Logan wanted him for anything else. Of course, Logan did not, and Deceit would smile, and leave for the night.

This schedule was an optimal way for Logan to perform both his duties to Thomas, and his self appointed duties as a teacher.

However, today, Logan hurried down the halls of the mindscape to his room. His watch indicated the time to be five past the hour, and his gait was stiff with self perpetuated ire.

Deceit stood by the door, customary black cape and hat in place. He turned abruptly towards the sounds of footsteps, posture growing straight.

Logan slowed his steps to a stop. “I apologize for my tardiness.”

Janus’s shoulders tensed for less than a moment, and he kept an arm length and a half away from Logan’s side. “Is everything all right?”

Logan breathed out sharply through his nose. “Roman insisted on having Thomas stay awake well into the night, despite his needing to wake up early the next morning. My opinion on the matter was once again discarded.”

“That sounds so unfair.” Deceit’s head tilted three degrees to the left, eyes wide with polite queries. “Is there anything I can do to help you, Logic?”

“No. It is unproductive to bring others into personal disagreements.”

“Are you sure? I find having more sides on your side gives arguments more weight.”

Logan blinked rapidly. “That does not make sense? Words do not have weight?”

“It’s a metaphor,” Janus said, bland smile in place. “Sort of like Rosevelt’s ‘big stick policy’. Having more strength to your argument makes you right.”

“Being correct makes one right,” Logan said. He opened the door to his room, and motioned for Janus to enter. 

“Fighting all your battles alone with no one to watch your back is very admirable, to be sure.” Janus’s hands were placed loosely in his lap when he settled on his usual chair by the desk. “But everyone needs help now and then. Espionage is the quickest way to end the war, and all that.”

Logan settled at the desk, and paged through the day’s lesson plan. “While your offers of assistance are noted, I assure you I do not require your assistance to give my discussions with the others ‘more weight’. I am more than capable of supporting my debate points on my own.”

He pulled a book from the stack on his desk. “Now, let us continue discussing moral relativism and absolutism.”

Had Logan looked, he would have seen Deceit’s expression creased in concentration, eyes darting around the points of Logan’s body and room in quick repetition. His jaw set, and an imperceptible tremor shuddered over his hands and down his spine, before being strangled to stillness. 

His tongue darted over his lips, wetting them to a shine, and his smile subtly morphed into a lush pout. The chair inched its way closer to Logan’s, as Deceit ostentatiously adjusted himself to better see the diagrams being pointed out in the book. Beneath the desk was the faintest brush of fabric covered knees, which did not abate over the remainder of the discussion.

At precisely noon, the timer of Logan’s wrist watch let out a beep, and he drew back from watching Janus compile flashcards of important historical philosophers. 

“We shall now take a break in our activities for lunch. Do you have any sustenance preferences?”

“No.” Deceit’s smile was, as always, differential to a fault. Logan wondered whether the side had a secondary function which made him disinclined to express personal desires. More research was needed.

Nodding, Logan stood. Deceit’s mismatched eyes followed him through his short walk across the room and out the door to the hall.

Perhaps Deceit held some aspect of self preservation within himself, which promoted his attitude of difference to other sides? But wasn’t there another side dedicated to protecting Thomas from outside stimuli already? Logan hummed in thought. This required more data. 

The kitchen was empty when he arrived. No doubt Roman was busy offering Thomas daydreams while he ate, and Patton usually ate later in the day, when he would begin cooking dinner. 

Pulling a tray from a cupboard, Logan perused the contents of the kitchen.

Though he never turned down what Logan offered, Deceit had a preference for warm beverages. The two times a cold thermos had been offered, he had taken a single sip, before putting it down. Lukewarm or hot beverages were accepted much more readily. The one time Logan had brought a mug of hot coffee, Deceit had curled his gloved hands around it, and breathed in the fumes, eyes drifting shut, before taking small sips for the next hour, as if trying to keep the sensation going as long as possible. 

Deceit’s other food preferences were more difficult to determine, as the side had yet to finish eating what meals Logan brought him. Perhaps his more animalistic features affected his dietary needs? Though that would not explain Deceit sneaking away granola when he thought Logan wasn’t looking. Perhaps he was shy to eat in front of others? Logan searched through the fridge, and assembled two ham sandwiches. He added two hard boiled eggs to the plate as well. He forewent his usual Crofters and scones, in favor of several packages of wrapped chips and fruit cups. That should be enough to determine which hypothesis held true.

Adding two lidded mugs of coffee, Logan hefted the tray and began the short walk back to his room.

Deceit was a fascination of contradictions. While usually things being unable to fit neatly into the schemas Logan designed would cause frustration, Deceit’s straddling of multiple categories proved to be an exercise in re-organization. And Logan loved organizing. He was coming to the conclusion that he would need to create several new schemas in how he categorized sides for Deceit alone. 

Balancing the tray on his hip, Logan freed a hand to open the door. As it swung, something on the floor interrupted the door’s momentum, causing his arm to jolt, and his grip on the tray to stutter. 

Immediately, a yellow gloved hand reached out to steady him, preventing their lunch from spilling onto the floor.

“Oh my goodness, Logic, are you all right?”

Logan turned his head and stared. The fabric of the yellow glove was suede soft where it pressed against the skin of his wrist. His gaze flicked to meet Deceit’s. The side’s eyes were crinkled thirty percent at the edges, matching the small smile on his mouth. 

“Please, Logic, let me help you carry that.” 

Soft wrapped fingers slid down his arm and wrist, taking the tray from his slack grip. 

“I assure you Deceit, it is not a burden.” Logan cleared his throat. 

Shadows cast by Deceit’s eyelashes highlighted the crest of his cheekbones. “Just because you can do it by yourself, doesn’t mean you have to.”

Logan straightened, eyes curiously watching the sway of Deceit’s spine as he leaned to place the tray on the desk. A pearlescent green eye turned to look at him. 

“Is there something I can help you with Logic?”

Logan blinked, shoulders straightening. “What? No. Why do you ask?”

Deceit’s mouth curved in a geometrically symmetrical bow. “Only, you’re staring.”

Logan coughed into his fist, eyes downcast. “I apologize. It is not my intention to be rude.”

“Is it my scales?” Deceit swayed closer. His eyes lowered demurely, long lashes curling. “I’m told they can be off putting…”

“No, your scales are, uh, quite fascinating.” Logan swallowed. He moved to adjust his tie, but Deceit caught his hand between his own, mouth curving upwards in the most saccharine of smiles.

“Really? That’s the nicest thing I think anyone’s said about them. I’ve been told they look so rough.” Deceit brought Logan's hand up, and pressed his scaled cheek against his palm. “But see? They’re much softer than they seem.”

The pads of his fingers caressed the crest of Janus’s eyebrow. Logan hummed. “Do you ever experience any specific dietary requirements, due to the nature of your physiology?”

Deceit blinked, question catching him off guard. “Not that I am aware of?” 

He let go of his hand, and Logan let it fall to his side, making note of the cool dry texture of the scales. “Fascinating.”

“Snake scales are made of keratin, and human bodies already produce that in hair and finger nails, so I shouldn’t need to eat anything special for that,” Deceit went on.

Logan’s gaze met Deceit’s, and he leaned towards him, voice speeding up in excitement. “Ah, do you ever crave foods with a high concentration of biotin, since your physiology creates more keratin than the average human?”

Mismatched eyes flicked between Logan’s own, making note of his interest. A calculation took place behind his eyes, and his tongue darted fast from his lips to taste the air. “Well,” Deceit said slowly, “I do quite like hard boiled eggs.”

“I will endeavor to attain more for you to consume in the future.” Logan adjusted his glasses. “You may also wish to consume a vitamin B supplement.”

One of Deceit’s eyebrows rose. “I’ll get right on that-” He started to say, before catching the sarcasm on the tip of his tongue.

“Excellent,” Logan said. “Please let me know if you experience any significant physiological changes.”

Deceit smirked, and swayed close enough for the brim of his hat to touch Logan’s forehead. “So you’re only interested in me for my physiology?”

Logan blinked. “No, I also find your willingness to learn intellectually arousing as well.”

A scaled eyebrow quirked up. “Arousing, you say?”

“Yes, an evocative response that awakens one-” Logan summoned a notecard with a twist of his wrist, with the vocabulary word written on the front. “Is that not what it means?”

Deceit’s head tilted, and the scaled side of his lips opened as the muscles of his cheek stretched in a smile. “That is exactly what that word means, Logic.”

“Excellent.” With a twist, the card vanished. “In light of our conversation, I will insist that you take both of the hard boiled eggs I procured for lunch to eat yourself.”

A crease formed between Deceit’s brows, before smoothing away. “I couldn’t take your lunch from you.”

“Falsehood. I procured this sustenance for the both of us. If you insist on an equal distribution between the two of us, I will take the extra fruit cup, while you take both eggs along with your sandwich.”

Logan handed Deceit a plate with the high protein foods, before retreating with his own sandwich to his desk. “After lunch, I must attend to my duties, but you may utilize my library to prepare for our discussion tomorrow.”

“...Thanks,” Deceit said, hands clutching the plate close to his chest.

…

Sighing, Janus materialized in his room. He dropped a granola bar on the small hoard by the night stand, and checked the state of his barricade, before sitting on the bed. He curled around his overly full stomach with a groan, ribs protesting the movement, and pulled off his shoes. His left foot was sore where he had used it to block Logic from opening the door to his bedroom, but nothing felt broken.

He let himself slump onto the covers. 

Virgil and Remus would be reforming any day now. It usually took about a week to gather the scattered scraps of oneself from the subconscious into a coherent metaphysical shape. However, there were several more days of delirium and recovery needed after that, before a side was back to being fully functional.

Janus would have to start checking the doors to their rooms to catch them before Malice did. His hat slid off as he rolled his face against the blankets. He would need to have Logic firmly on his side by then, or….

No, Logic would be on his side. 

Janus had bitten his tongue raw and smiled more politely than he had since Thomas was just learning how to fake listen to someone. He had worked hard to make himself seem agreeable to Logic, right down to agreeing with his every idea and opinion.

Of course, things would have been so much easier had Logan accepted Janus’s offers of help against Roman. Janus had enough information to surely tip whatever stalemate the two were at in their ‘disagreement’. Though, Logic did not appear injured when he explained why he was late that morning. So, perhaps he was able to hold his own against Creativity by himself.

That was all right though. Janus was adaptable. He had other avenues to prove how useful he was.

No matter that the indigo side was not made to be subject to the impulses of instinct and emotion, causing Janus’s more subtle seductive strategies to lose effectiveness. 

No, Janus had a plan, he did. It would be fine.

“Everything is fine,” he hissed, letting his eyes close.

He could even almost believe it.  
…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …  
> AN:  
> Logan thinks Janus is polite and differential, because Janus is actively not voicing his opinion in favor of blankly agreeing with Logan’s. No better way to get someone to like you, right? (Hi, hello, this is in fact a horrible thing to do, don’t do that)
> 
> ante meridiem == AM

**Author's Note:**

> Trying my hand at a Janus fic, and some hurt fic with questionable motivations for having a relationship. So. It's gonna be a ride.
> 
> Inspired by Odagaihara's Tale from the Dark Sides series


End file.
